Time's End
by Shooeyshushu
Summary: After discovering a spell that allowed Eragon to travel through time, he runs into NCIS. They discover that though they are competent in what they do, together, they're unstoppable. Or are they? Updated weekly when possible.
1. Clash

**This is not only my first fanfic, but also my first piece of long-term writing and my first piece of writing outside of school (other than poems.)**

Eragon couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu as he allowed his mind to meld with his surroundings. Sure, he'd done this often enough since Orimis' death, but never had he needed to try so hard. It wasn't just because of the insanely complex spell he was attempting to cast, or because he had to cut his mind off from Saphira for longer than he'd ever had to, or because the future of _everyone _depended on his focus. No, it wasn't _just_ any of those reasons. It was all of them. To make matters worse, Arya was next to him, tugging at his attention. If his mind wandered, or even quivered, everyone present would know. If he stuttered the spell would most likely kill him, but the only thing he could do now was take a huge gulp of sweet air. For some strange reason, it felt like it would be his last.

* * *

In unison, the twenty-two elves and Rider took a deep breath before starting the first verses of the enchantment, expanding outwards to meld with each other into a pulsing blob of magic. The lull of the spell dragged them into a entranced state of mind, where their minds seemed blank, yet was acutely aware of everything around them. For several fragile hours, they stood chanting.

* * *

As if he was struggling to come out of a dream, Eragon resurfaced. His mouth, seemingly of its own accord, was still reciting the last verse of the spell he'd had painstakingly memorized. The link with the elves showed that they, too, were popping back up as individuals, and not as the mass of energy they had become. Blodgharm's sharp yellow eyes were open, trained on something off in the distance no-one else seemed to be able to see. Islanzadi was still immersed in the magic, oblivious to the world. The young elf twins, faces more iridescent than ever before, seemed alert, and if Eragon hadn't known better, seemed to be playing a hand game with each other. And Arya, ah Arya, back straight, face smooth, eyes half open. Eragon felt his concentration slipping, but didn't care. If this spell worked, then he had the right to drink in as much of Arya's beauty as he could. Arya's eyelids finally fluttered open, and she gave Eragon a soft smile. Then, all too soon, everything seemed to whirl away into nothingness.

* * *

He was surrounded by the emptiness. Suffocating in it. It wasn't white, nor black. Not even clear. There was no sound, yet it wasn't quiet. This would drive him mad.

Him? Who was he?

_Eragon… and Saphira._

Presenting itself, the answer seemed to had been floating in the air, waiting for the right answer to pull it out. This nothingness suddenly seemed to fill with opportunity. But, how could he be both Eragon and Saphira?

No answer appeared.

Who was Saphira!? Frustration overwhelmed him.

_Your dragon._

His dragon? Yes. He was Eragon Shadeslayer. He was the first Rider in this generation. And he was supposed to be in the future, looking for new ways to kill Galabatorix.

As his memory returned to him, so did his senses. First the sounds; the loud burble of millions of voices. Obviously, he was somewhere crowded. And warmth. A strange, bodily warmth that seeped in through his clothes. Was someone on top of him? And what was that cold pressed against his head? He forced his reluctant eyelids open, only to shut them again, forced by the sharp, blinding light all around him.

"Do not move!" a tense woman's voice hissed into his ear.

"Huh?" Eragon groaned and tried to sit up to see his mysterious captor through his blurry eyes.

"I said DO NOT MOVE!"Now, the woman seemed almost frightened. Almost. "Tell me who you are! Why are you here?"

Eragon sat up (to the woman's great displeasure) and was surprised to see that she was only dressed in clothing that barely covered the areas that really should be kept covered, she had no dagger or sword on her, only a metal block that had a hole in it and something about her, nothing definite, but something about her was unmistakably like Arya. And she had been sitting on him, pinning him to the floor. A warm blush rose up his cheeks.

"Hey, what is that?" he quickly asked, hoping to distract this Arya-like woman from his blush. After a quick struggle, he was holding the metal block in his hands. "What does this thing do? Is it a weapon? Looks pretty useless." The woman glared at Eragon, but no longer seemed frightened. Just confused, tired, and very, very angry.

"Give it back," she growled menacingly. Then, without waiting for his response, she tried to snatch it away. Eragon kept his firm elf-strength-grip on the metal block though and continued to examine it. She sighed, turned around, and began putting on her clothes (thank goodness there were more) and picking up others that had strange cards on them. Eragon had to resist the urge to reach his mind out and find out everything she knew about this interesting, bright world.

* * *

Ziva couldn't believe it. Nobody, not even Gibbs could sneak up on her like that. And certainly not in the dressing room at a mall! And yet this strangely dressed, dirty young man had without even seeming to know what he had done! Not only that, he hadn't been afraid of her gun and had managed to simply take it from her. She shook her frizzy head and pulled her sweater on over her turtle neck.

When Ziva turned around, the dirty guy was peering into the hole of her gun, his fingers dangerously close to the trigger. Judging by his body posture, he really didn't know what this could do. All of his clothes was simple and exotic, but soiled. His skin had a thin layer of grime, and a heavy stench hung over him. And, unless her eyes were deceiving her, he had a sword strapped around his waist and a bow across his back. Who was this guy?

* * *

After the woman had finally finished dressing, she turned around, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head. Eragon had been peering into the hole of the metal block to see if he could see anything inside. It was too dark to tell, despite the blinding lights.

"Be careful with that!", the woman's voice betrayed a slight bit of laughter, and again, Eragon blushed. She made him feel so stupid!

"Why? What does it do?" he tried to sound intelligent and curious, but was evidently unsuccessful.

"You tell me who you are, and I will tell you what this is," she replied, wittily managing to gain the upper hand.

"I'm Eragon Bromsson, the first Rider of the new generation," Eragon responded proudly, especially after the woman's eyes widened in recognition.

* * *

Strange as he'd already been, the dirty young man, Eragon, had just made himself stranger still. His name had struck a bell (or rung a bell) that she didn't know she had. And what the heck was a "Rider"? But, true to her word, she would have to answer his question on guns. Who knew what he might do to her if she didn't. Something about that made her uncomfortable though.

"Eragon? That is an interesting name. I do not seem to recognize it from any language. Well, my name is Ziva. It is a pleasure to have met you. This thing is called a gun. If you come with me I will show you what it does," Ziva hoped that this would satisfy Eragon for the moment. She would wait until she was surrounded by Gibbs and Tony before handing the gun over to Eragon again.

* * *

**Please review, because I KNOW I need to improve my writing a LOT, and at the moment, I really don't know where it's bad, just that it's bad. TELL ME!**


	2. Shopping

**I know this is a kinda pointless chap. Still don't really know how to organize my thoughts into words... My apologies! (See, by saying that, I get out of ACTUALLY apologizing)**

Ziva rubbed her forehead thoughtfully. What in the world had she gotten herself into? Since they were in the mall already, she might as well get this Eragon some decent clothing. And some deodorant. Maybe at the really cheap store up ahead.

Upon making her decision, Ziva began dragging Eragon out of the dressing-room. The other women waiting in line glared disapprovingly at her and Eragon, clucking loudly like hens. They seemed slightly dissappointed that Ziva showed no remorse.

* * *

Eragon hadn't been glared at by a whole group of women for a long time. The guiltiness he experienced brought back a wave of memories. A type of nostalgia that most men would find unpleasant and embarrassing, but what Eragon knew to symbolize his happier, care-free days. His days without Saphira, yes, but days with no need worry about his life and that of everyone in Alagaesia. The strange Ziva woman dragged him through the tiny room that contained the even tinier rooms in which he had first landed, out into a huge shop filled with clothes and biting lights. People were milling around everywhere; almost like an anthill, bustling with activity. Almost, but in an ant hill, the ants were constantly greeting one another, rubbing antennas and working together. Here, the mall could have been devoid of anyone else, and none of the people would've cared. They would've gone on laughing and talking in their bright clothing, and thick shoes, everything white and clean and uncaring.

Ziva continued dragging Eragon out of the store, into a even larger place, one that was tiny compared to Tronjheim, but huge nonetheless. If it was possible, even more people were here, and voices, smells, and objects. Little, door-less rooms lined the large building, and each was filled with delightful toys. Excitement coursed through his veins. If he was to find something to defeat Galbatorix with, if course it would be in a giant store. As he walked, Eragon couldn't help but notice all the strange looks he was getting, and how everyone immediately cleared out of his way. At first, he thought that it was because of Ziva's murderous glare, but after seeing a child plug his nose and squeak something very rude to his mother, he realized that it was him. More specifically, his smell. He _had_ noticed that few of the people here smelled of anything, and the ones that _did_ have any scent on them were all extremely pungent, yet unnervingly similar. He wrinkled his nose in distaste.

* * *

Finally, and quite abruptly, Ziva stopped, causing Eragon to be extremely glad of his elvin reflexes. They were facing a dimly lit room (a relief for his eyes) that, like the first cubbyhole, was packed with clothes hung on metal rods and had a tiny niche in the back for changing. The main difference though, was the fact that giant fairths of men, instead of women, were on the walls.

"Here is where you can get some decent clothing. I will come back and check on you later," Ziva said, before abandoning him in the store. Eragon suddenly had the strangest sensation of being lost. He had almost _always_ had someone at his side or in his head. On the few occasions he'd been alone, he had always had a purpose and a place in his world. Here, he was an outsider, a loner, and he had no idea what he should do. Ziva had told him to get decent clothes, so should he just reach out and take the clothing? How would he know if they would fit? Cloth had always been bought, then the clothes made to fit him exactly, so, were all these clothes made so they would fit everyone? How would he pay for them? In this wonderful time, was everything free? Afraid he would do something wrong, Eragon decided now was enough of an emergency for him to open his mind to the dangers of the world. Carefully, he cracked the shield around him, letting a tendril of thought wander towards another man in the shop.

A barrage of thought battered him, forcing his mind shut again. His heart sped up and sweat soaked his back. He'd forgotten about all the other people just a rock's throw away, beyond the flimsy wall. Taking a deep breath to prepare himself, he once again opened his shield just a bit, then shot into the other man's thoughts, not letting himself waver.

_Agh, my stupid boss. Who cares if he doesn't like suits? Why in the world should I get a whole new wardrobe? _I _don't like _t-shirts _and _jeans_, but do I still have to wear them? YES! BECAUSE MY STUPID BOSS TOLD ME TO! The whole office will think I'm an idiot! Does he even care?! NO! Why did Elanie have to tell him he looked cute in T-shirts..._

Eragon retreated from his mind hurriedly, rather frightened by his random raging. T-shirts. So that's what these thick colored shirts were called. He couldn't help chuckling a bit about the strange, imagination-lacking creativity of the name. Well, time to try again!

* * *

Wandering around the mall, Ziva tried to organize her thoughts. Hopefully, when she went back for Eragon, he would have some normal clothing. His bow and sword could be hidden in the car, and, then what? Would she really bring him to NCIS? She could leave him with Abby, who loved talking with wackoes, but then, what would she do with him after she taught him how to shoot? Would she have to baby-sit him? Until what? Someone came and claimed their lost little madman? She could just ditch him here at the mall, but just his name had given her enough reason to stick around. Well, more about that later, she finally decided. First, she'd pay for his clothes and get him a good bath. There would be plenty of time to worry.

When Ziva finally returned to the store, she was surprised to see Eragon, smile on face, lined up at the front desk. Hiding in the shadows, she waited for him to do something else that would crack her open, erm, up. Sure enough, once he reached the front desk, he dropped the clothes on the table and proceeded to pull out a tan pouch, leather, based on how it creased, with drawstrings. He asked a question, and the cashier looked at him, confused. Grinning broadly, he pulled out several thick, yellow coins. Ziva was almost certain it was gold, 14 karat, judging by its color. Immediately, the cashier's hand went to his cell phone. Ziva chose this moment to swoop in.

Pulling out her credit card, she quickly swiped it, nodded at the cashier, and pulled Eragon out of the store. "What were you thinking! Nobody uses gold coins here anymore! Did you see that guy! He was about to call the police!" she admonished. Eragon just stared at her dumbly.

"Were the clothes free?" he asked, choosing not to answer the question.

"No, they are not free! I paid for it, did I not?" Ziva was completely exasperated. Maybe she needed to check him into a mental health hospital.

"But then, how come you got your card thing back?" She had to laugh. Of course Eragon didn't know what a credit card was. Shaking her head, she set off for the parking lot, hoping Eragon had the sense to follow, but not bothering to check.


	3. Meet the Team

**Guess what? Somebody from Estonia read this story!! Estonia!! Where's that!!?? So cool. I looked it up, and they have their own language and everything!**

Ziva couldn't help but be surprised by how calm Eragon seemed. Even Tony couldn't look peacefully happy when she was at the wheel, yet here Eragon was, looking for all the world like he _enjoyed_ her crazy driving. Like swerving around other cars at a hundred miles per hour was _blissful_...

* * *

Leaning back and closing his eyes, Eragon pretended that he was with Saphira, soaring high above this world with metal non-living animals. They frightened him. At first, he'd approached the cars with trepidation, thinking they were large animals who'd taken over outside world, making it hard for people to venture out of their strange buidings, but Ziva just laughed at him, before pulling open a concealed door at the side. Still, he wasn't comfortable in the car, since he was technically sitting in its stomach. Hoping for reassurance, he'd ended up reaching his mind out to several of the cars outside. Surprisingly, they were emptily thoughtless, but full of energy. Thriving, thrumming, flowing energy. Maybe it would be a good opportunity to restore Aren! Without a second's hesitation, he began channeling a big black truck's energy through him to the ring. The large car jerked to a stop and the ruddy faced man in it swore angrily with a bewildered expression on his face, stomping his foot for effect. The car still didn't budge. Shocked by his passionate reaction, Eragon released the energy in a rush, making the truck surge forward, crashing into the car in front of it, before shuddering to a stop again, this time for good. Ziva cursed at the "jam", but quickly wove her way out of it, leaving a mess of cars behind her, honking like fat, flightless geese.

Finally, they stopped at a thin, tall building of bricks with many large windows. Ziva pulled another card out of her bag and flashed it on the way in. The muscular guards nodded and let her and Eragon pass, but stopped the person behind them. Eragon was catching on! The cards had to be enchanted.

Up ahead, Ziva stepped into a little silver box and Eragon followed. The floor was unsteady, so Eragon began muttering a levitation spell just in case. With a jerk, then a frightening shudder, the box began to rise. Flincing, he ended up hovering an inch off the floor. Fortunately, Ziva didn't notice. When he finally realized that it was just like the pulley systems in Tronjheim, he lowered himself, but was still so tense he yelped when the box "dinged" and the doors slid smoothly open.

* * *

Excitedly, Ziva gave her hair an extra brush and arranged her clothes until they were just right. Tony would be just around the corner. The thought set her heart yammering. Today, he was using his sunglasses as a mirror; arranging his hair, scraping gunk off his teeth, then leaning back in his chair to admire himself.

"Do not worry Tony. I am sure your computer screen will not mind your looks," she teased.

"Oh, hey Zeevers!" he said almost guiltily, flashing her an absent-minded smile before going back to smoothing his hair down. Ziva sighed, then turned to McGee.

"Where's Gibbs?"

McGee glanced away from his screen for a split-second reluctantly. "He's up in MTAC. Something from NASA."

* * *

Eragon could feel the closeness between Ziva and the two other people. Her tense, stealthy way of walking, standing, _moving_ in general, seemed to have been left in the elevator. Here, she seemed more human. Eragon wondered, fleetingly, if there was a place where he could relax too. But he knew that he would have no rest until Galbatorix was defeated.

Shaking his head to clear the thoughts away, he strode into the walled off area, trying his hardest to look confident. The man Ziva had addressed as Tony gave him a once-over before turning to Ziva.

"This the nutcase you were telling me about?" he asked casually, as if some weirdo was brought in everyday. Eragon felt himself deflate.

"Oh, yes. I need to talk to Gibbs. I promised to teach him how to shoot," Ziva replied. Eragon felt a sense of betrayal. Ziva told somebody he was a nutcase? How could she!?

"I am not a nutcase!" Eragon burst defiantly, even though it was a bit random. Tony just looked at him in a patient, bored manner; the look Eragon gave to the youngsters. It was too bad he couldn't show Tony what he could do. Maybe a good duel would earn him the team's respect. He puffed himself up and glared ferociously at Tony; a glare that made most grown elves cower, even if only mockingly, and waited for him to back down or challenge him.

"Oh, hey!" Tony said instead, mussing up Eragon's hair. "Look at who's grumpy today! You wanna chocolate?" he reached into his desk and pulled out several shiny packages. "I'm supposed to pay for them, but a skilled marksman knows exactly where to strike," he proceeded to demonstrate some strange jabbing motions, which Eragon promptly imitated, forgetting his petty grudge.

* * *

Watching Tony mess with Eragon, the foolishness of her actions was finally dawning on her. Obviously, taking some crazy guy who had appeared in the woman's changing room to NCIS headquarters and teaching him how to use a gun was stupid and impulsive. But Gibbs would understand. Hopefully.

"Who's this?" Gibbs' voice came from somewhere behind Ziva's head. He was staring at Eragon.

She whirled around before stammering, "This, this is Eragon," Tony snickered. "I ran into him at the mall, and… umm…he wants to know how to shoot a gun…" Desperately, she flashed a nervous smile at Gibbs. It still sounded ridiculous.

"And…?" Gibbs was giving her a hard, unrelenting glare. "Are you gonna teach him?"

"Yes," she said with a confident voice, though her stiff smile was still pasted on her face.

"Okay, go ahead. We don't have any cases today."

Tony gawked. "You're gonna let Ziva stay in the same room as that guy with a gun!?" he whispered too loudly.

"Well, yea," Gibbs said, his eyes still on Ziva. "Doncha think she can take care of herself?"

"Ummm..." Fortunatley, Tony had finally learned not to answer rhetorical questions.


	4. Oops

**Went to the pumpkin patch today, and got lost for an HOUR at one little section... drove me insane... OMG! this chap is so short... *sobs* gah. cant help it. darn it. well, i might add some stuff to it later. i added an extra paragraph of tony/ eragon interaction in the last chap. i sincerely apologize for making Eragon so dumb... can't help it...**

Bam. Bam. Bam. Three perfect shots. Two to the head, then one to the heart. Ziva was sure the paper man had died. She turned around smugly, waiting to hear Eragon blather about the amazing qualities of guns, but was surprised to see instead, a look of intense disappointment slide across his face.

"That's it?" he asked, hunching his shoulders as if the world had collapsed on him. "It just throws stones?"

Ziva had to laugh. He looked so strange (there was no other word for it) in his too tight, black skull and crossbones t-shirt, too big, sagging jeans, and numerous chains that had come permanently attached to the jeans. Ziva regretted not checking to see what clothes Eragon had bought before paying for it. Especially since there had been a moody goth teenager hanging around the store.

"It does not 'throw stones' as you say, but shoots balls of metal, bullets, at extremely high speeds," Ziva patiently replied, hoping Eragon would know what metal was, at the very least.

"So?" Eragon asked, unsatisfied. "All he needs to do is hear of the gun once, and then he'll have a ward against it!"

Ziva just gave him a blank stare.

"See, you can shoot me now, and nothing will happen! I can block it because I know how it works!"

"You can wear a bullet-proof vest, yes, but you still might be killed," Ziva was completely baffled.

______

Gibbs strode into the shooting range to fetch Ziva and the weird person who knew much more than he let on. There had been a case. A short, obvious case. Missing divorced Marine, kidnapped daughter, unhappy mother. Not much thinking required.

"Shoot me!" Gibbs heard Eric say loudly. "Nothing's going to happen!"

Then Ziva, coolly and with authority, "No, this can kill you easily, no matter what you are protected with,"

Grunting and yelling was soon heard; the sounds of a scuffle. Gibbs drew out his gun, motioning for McGee and DiNozzo to do the same, before creeping up behind Eric-on, who was now holding Ziva's gun. No wonder she'd wanted to wait until being in NCIS…

Suddenly, before Gibbs knew what happened, Eragon shot himself in the chest, and reflex made Gibbs fire too. McGee and DiNozzo responded similarly, and Eragon fell to his knees. There seemed to be no blood, but he was turning pale and couldn't seem to see straight. Maybe his black clothing was making it hard to see his wounds.

"Uhhnnnn…" he groaned, clasping his hands together for a moment before struggling to his feet. Tony and Mcgee's mouths were hanging open, but Gibbs glared at Eragon suspiciously. The color had fully returned to his face, and if anything, he seemed more energetic than before.

"You guys surprised me," Eragon said defensively. "It took a lot more energy than I thought it would to stop the bullets. I might've died…" he seemed almost shocked by his realization.

"Well, come on, we've got a case," Gibbs announced, choosing to ignore Eragon's miraculous recovery.

"But, but, boss… how… what…?" McGee stuttered, staring at Eragon, dumbstruck.

"Wait!" Ziva had silently started to follow Gibbs, but now they all stopped. "Don't you want your bullet things back?" Eragon asked innocently, holding out all four bullets in the palm of his left hand.


	5. Abby

**Just for the record, I DON'T like Twilight. Not at all. I suppose the story line's okay, but Edward's just disgusting, and all the girls SCREAMING about him... ugh... it hurts my ears so bad! Just my opinion though... :P (If you really want to express yours, I've got a poll up on my profile.)Oh, and I love reviews, even if they're harsh. Last year, my teacher had to read one sentence I wrote three or four times just to see if it actually made sense. Made me all TT_TT because I didn't even know I twisted my sentences around. So, tell me if you notice weird habits like that.**

As Ziva and Tony grabbed their gear, they remained in a slight daze. None of them knew what to expect from Eragon any more.

"So, are you going to bring him to the case?" Tony whispered.

"No! He might make the wife fly away!" she joked, but they could both only chuckle half-heartedly, peering around their shoulders to see if he'd come back from his bathroom trip yet.

"So, where are you going to put him?" Tony asked, completely serious for once.

Ziva rolled her eyes. "How do I know?"

"OOOHHH! Are you guys talking about that alien forces dude!?" Abby, who had just walked in, asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet, a sheet of paper clasped in her hand. "He seems so cool. Do you think I could meet him?"

Ziva and Tony gave each other a quick glance.

"Well, we have a case…" Ziva began.

"…and since we can't bring him…" Tony continued.

"YES! I get to keep him for the day? Ooooh, wait, I have to go get my lab all welcoming!" Abby dropped the paper, rushing towards the elevator.

Tony and Ziva both smiled as they high-fived.

* * *

"So, are you a vampire?"

Eragon was at a loss. Ziva had left, along with the others, and dumped him with Abby; an adult who acted like a young girl, a human who seemed somewhat like a Shade. Instead of being afraid of his powers, she seemed to think it made him her pet, yet she was so caring and accepting that he couldn't help but like her.

"Uh, no…" he finally responded.

"Then, you're an alien, right?" she asked, her smile growing even wider. "You must be from Jupiter. That's so far away that no one can tell if it sustains life. Are there a lot of other people on Jupiter? Or are you like Superman, the last guy left and all that…"

"I'm a Dragon Rider, a Shurtugal," Eragon stated simply. "I'm from Alagaesia."

She gave him a reproachful look. "No, seriously! Dragons don't exist. Are you sure your not a vampire though? I mean, you're just like the ones in Twilight. You know, like you have inexplicable abilities, super strength, I think, because that's what Ziva said, and a really pretty face. Seriously, I'm not saying this just because I like you. Not that I like you or anything. I mean, like, like-like. I like you fine, as a person, just not, like…" she motioned in the air wildly, as if it would clarify her meaning somehow. Eragon had tried to follow what she meant before, but here he just let the sounds float up as an incoherent babble through the ceiling. Luckily, before she noticed, one of her computers let out a loud bleep.

"What has my baby got for me?" Abby crooned as the screen lit up. Her face scrunched up as she read the information. Muttering under her breath, she began whipping around the room, first running to turn on her radio, then opening the evidence bags, entering things into "Major Mass Spectrometer", running back to type something into her computer... Every time Eragon got in the way, she would push him gently to the side, until finally, she stopped.

"Maybe you should sit there," she pointed to the little room in the back, her black lips still in a thoughtful pout.

* * *

Ziva read the e-mail Abby had forgotten over and over again in the front seat of their little black car. Bill Clayson, the missing Marine, had written an e-mail sent directly to Abby begging NCIS to drop his case. It was a desperate plea, made by someone who knew he had no other options. Something about it made Ziva feel so sad. She was familiar with the feeling of being trapped, abandoned, with no way out but the wrong way. Abby had already traced the e-mail and written the coordinates on the bottom, but Ziva thought that maybe, possibly, if Tony hadn't been there, she would've hidden the e-mail. Bill was as good as caught now, since she'd already shown it to Gibbs and they were already on their way. With a toddler in tow, he wouldn't be able to go very far.

"Hey, boss, do you use hair-gel?" Tony asked suddenly from the backseat, his head resting on Gibbs' chair.

"Does it _look_like I use hair-gel, DiNozzo?" Gibbs snapped.

"Umm..." Tony was trapped. If he said yes, then it would seem like he was saying Gibbs needed hair-gel to look good, but if he said no, it might seem like he thought Gibbs didn't take care about his hair.

"Never mind," he grumbled, his head returning, somewhat reluctantly, to the back seat, where he resumed his argument with "McGlob" about who had cuter, hotter, or sleeker hair, until Gibbs switched the radio on.

* * *

Eragon sat quietly in the back-room, letting all the events of the day settle into his mind. He was supposed to have contacted the elves and Nasuada as soon as he had arrived, but the whirl of excitement had left him confused and excited. Now, though, he finally had the time. But the prospect of scrying through time made him more hesitant than usual. Finally, he stood, stretched, and poked him head out of the room.

"Abby? Do you have any water?" he had to yell to make himself heard over the racket.

"Water?" she seemed surprised. "Why in the world would you want water? Try Caf-POW! It's much better," she went over to the refrigerator and took out a large container of black, bubbly liquid. Eragon groaned inwardly, but at least it was a liquid...


	6. Time Scrying

** Oh, I need to do a project on a French speaking place, so, if you know a French speaking country that's uncommon (not Canada, or France) lemme know. Oh, the stuff in the chap, I'm not sure what I'm gonna do with a lot of it, I just put it in for open ends. yea...**

Back in his little room, Eragon set the Caf-POW! on the floor and extracted the modified scrying spell from his pocket. He couldn't help but marvel at the simplicity of the pockets. They were nothing more than a scrap of clothe sewn onto the clothing, yet could act as a small knapsack. He had to remember to tell the elves about this…

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he read the spell under his breath several times, before finally focusing his energy on the dark, burbling liquid. Softly, but with authority, he reshaped the liquid. A ripple traveled across the surface, leaving a solid plane behind. Then, instead of darkening as water would, the Caf-POW! brightened until it was a sharp, blinding white, making the whole room light up. Luckily, Abby didn't turn around, absorbed as she was with the computer.

Slowly, an image flickered onto the Caf-POW!'s glossy surface. He could barely make out Nasuada's large bed, evidently in her office. A slight, gray-skinned, gray-haired woman was lying listlessly under the covers. Upon closer examination, he saw that the elderly woman was, in fact, Nasuada. His breath caught in his throat as he surveyed the scene. Farica, with many more wrinkles, a bit more padding, and a lot less energy, was kneeling by Nasuada, holding her hand as tears streamed down her face. With a short, jerking shudder, Nasuada sank into her pillow, her drawn face finally relaxed after her many years of leading the Varden. A wrenching feeling of loss in his gut told Eragon that he had just witnessed Nasuada's death.

A mask of shock covered Farica's face as she shook Nasuada's now limp body, wailing. The simple, raw pain that she expressed brought back unbidden memories of Oromis, and Eragon couldn't control the tears leaking out of his eyes. Suddenly, Farica looked up, straight at him. Both remained still, sharing their pain, before Farica gasped, turning a bright red, then deathly white before she collapsed, her poor heart giving out. Eragon released the spell, letting the image of servant and master, equal in death, fade to the brown-black of the soda. Just before the image disappeared though, a tall, dark man, with a young boy in tow, stumbled into the room, towards Nasuada's body. Then, the scene vanished into sweet bubbles.

Eragon thought carefully about what he'd seen, and finally decided, strange as it was, he should be happy. Nasuada would live to be old and die of natural causes, so he, Elva, and the guards didn't need to worry as much. No matter what happened, she would most likely be safe, even though the future was changeable. Deciding not to dwell too much on an uncertain event, Eragon tried the scrying spell again, but this time, he kept his mind centered closely on the time he wanted to see.

Once again, Nasuada's office slid into focus, but this time, he saw her bent over her desk, writing diligently with troubled expression on her face. It felt strange, watching her and waiting for her to notice him. He'd thought that everybody would have been eagerly awaiting his report. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat. Nasuada jumped up, her hand grasping the dagger concealed in the folds of her dress.

"Eragon?" she looked him over quizzically, eyeing his strange clothing.

"Yes…?" Eragon waited for her to question him about his experiences.

"Is something wrong?" her eyebrows raised half an inch, and she had the beginnings of a glare in her eye.

"Ummm…. Noo… everything's fine…" Eragon was slightly unnerved by her less than welcoming greeting. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm fine here, and there are some weapons that might be useful in battle."

Nasuada blinked at him. "You're fine where?"

Suddenly, it dawned on Eragon that he'd scryed to the wrong time again. "What did I do today?" he asked, hoping he would remember about which day she was talking about.

"You went down to the library and stayed there all day… Didn't even eat lunch yet." She now looked thoroughly confused.

"Oh, okay, then you'll understand later!" Eragon said with a smile. He remembered well. After hours of complaining to Saphira about his lack of resources the night before, she'd grumpily told him to stop complaining or look for tools in the future. It was a strange and baffling concept, and he couldn't get it out of his head, so, the very next morning, he'd spent the whole day buried in scrolls, looking for a time-travel spell.

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Eragon's voice called in excitedly. "Nasuada, you won't believe what I found in the library!" Her eyes widened, and flicked over to the scrying-mirror, but Eragon was already gone.

* * *

Now he knew why Nasuada had been so willing to try the time travelling spell. And why she'd seemed to get happier and happier as he explained the time travelling spell to her. A bubble of mirth rose from within himself.

"Oh my GOD!" Abby yelled from the other room suddenly, disturbing his thoughts. "I CANNOT BELIEVE it! It's SO OBVIOUS!" she wailed, while dialing on her phone. "C'mon, Gibbs, pick up! Pick up, pick up, PICK UP!!!" she seemed to be nearly crying now.

Eragon darted into her lab, standing next to her. "What's wrong?"

"Oh, look! Read the first letter of each line in this e-mail! It's so OBVIOUS!" she ranted, handing him a sheet of paper.

"H, umm, h-ell, h-elp... Help me!" Eragon slowly read. It took a moment for the meaning of the words to sink into his mind.

"Yea! I can't believe I missed that! If he put it in code, then obviously, he was forced to write this e-mail, which means they're headed to a trap! And, I sent them there. Ergh, and Gibbs isn't picking up!" Abby groaned. "Neither is Tony, Ziva, and McGee. Oh, I'll tell Ducky to try to call them. I hate waiting here with no way to know what's going on. Gah!" though nearing hysteria, Abby seemed to have a sort of loose control over her actions, yet her worry, and the reason for it was apparent. Eragon knew what he had to do.


	7. Sprint

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN!! I'm up at, like, 11 cuz I forgot to start writing earlier. Finally "finished". Cut it off a bit earlier than I was planning to, but....  
We had this Halloween "party" at swim practice today and it SUCKED EGGS! The mom didn't organize any land games for us, which is the whole POINT of a party, since we hafta swim every day, so we ended up swimming with pumpkins. It was weird, like we had to swim laps holding pumpkins, clamping them between our legs (AWKWARD!!), sitting on them (and getting poked in the butts by their stems) and throwing them. Did I mention it SUCKED EGGS!?**

Even though he wasn't proud of it, and definitely wasn't about to announce it to the world, Eragon had snuck a peek at Gibbs' mind before. With the others, common courtesy prevented Eragon from barging into their most private and sacred thoughts, but Gibbs seemed to be a whole different matter. What he found was… curious… Gibbs seemed extremely shallow, yet even more so, observant. And he was hard. Not much would get to him. He was always the shoulder to cry on, not the one who needed a shoulder, and yet, there was something faked about the toughness. It was like the ice on a river; solid and unyielding, yet beneath rushed more than anyone would imagine. Carefully and hesitantly, Eragon had broken through the hard parts. Shadows of memories lurked beneath it; shadows more definite than real life itself. Kelly, happy and carefree, laughing while kissing him lightly on the nose while Sharon stood silently in the background, a content smile on her face. Torrents of memories had barraged Eragon until he backed out. Gibbs was someone who Eragon understood.

Branching out, Eragon searched for the familiar speck of Gibbs' consciousness.

"Hop on," he said distractedly, bending down to allow Abby to climb onto his back. She would worry herself to death if Eragon left her here.

"Umm… Eragon, I don't think this is the best time for this…" there was something in her voice that Eragon had never encountered before.

"What?" Eragon asked, confused.

"Oh, never mind!" Abby said, jumping joyously onto his back. "I haven't piggy-backed anywhere for years! Like, since I was in third grade! Where are we going though? Can't I walk? Not that I'm complaining or anything…"

"I'm a fast runner," Eragon responded, choosing to ignore her first question, since he didn't know the answer himself. Oh, wait. There! He found a faint pulse of Gibbs' personality. With Abby clinging on for dear life, and blabbering while she was at it, Eragon leapt through the window and set off at a full sprint, following the faint thread that would lead him to Gibbs.

* * *

Gibbs flicked through the radio channels, looking for a decent song. Up ahead a truck merged into their lane, and Gibbs had to swerve to avoid crashing.

"Whoa! For once I actually wish Ziva was driving. She would only kill us by making us insanely carsick, but Gibbs might actually crash!" Tony hissed to McGee.

"DiNozzo, just because you're hissing doesn't mean I can't hear you…" Gibbs snapped. But, Tony was right, after all. "Ziva, you do it for me," Gibbs said, taking his hand away from the radio knob.

"Gladly," she responded, grabbing the steering wheel. The car jerked sharply to the left as Gibbs snatched it back and pointed at the radio, glaring at Ziva pointedly. Grumbling, she began flicking through the radio stations instead while Tony and McGee gave each other frightened looks in the back.

* * *

Getting out of the Naval base had been pretty simple. Eragon had sprinted until he could see the entrance, then set Abby down, who walked him out. After that, things had gotten trickier. Roads for the cars took up most of the room, and the cars were constantly weaving in and out of lanes, leaving him little to no room to run. He finally decided, with a graceful leap, to run _above _the cars. Or rather, on top of them, doubling his speed.

"Whoa, I wonder how fast we're moving. Probably a hundred miles an hour, since the car's moving about sixty miles per hour. Maybe faster. Can you fly? I've dreamed about flying since I was, like, ummm… well, since forever. Could you fly _right now_? Ooh, don't go too high though, or else the sun will burn us. Hey look, that dude in the tall evil truck is staring at me!" Abby proceeded to wave and smile sweetly at the "dude", who now wasn't only staring, but had his mouth open and was unconsciously punching the person next to him, trying to get his attention. When he finally turned though, Eragon had already brought Abby far ahead. At least she didn't seem as tense and worried as before.

"If I was back in my own time, you could fly on Saphira. It's like nothing here. The sun doesn't burn you, because the clouds keep you cool, and Saphira will give you much more to think about than that, looping and twirling," Eragon began almost dreamily, despite the situation. "She might dip into a lake, or flip upside down. It's great…" his loneliness washed over him, and he put on an extra burst of speed before Abby could ask any more questions.

* * *

"OH! Stop. Right there!" Tony yelled excitedly. Ziva froze and rock music filled the car. "No, not the radio station! Gibbs! The car!" Tony corrected as Gibbs glared at him. They screeched to a stop outside of a dark dry-cleaners.

"Um, boss? I don't think he's in here" McGee said, chewing his lip as he peered through the glass. "Looks like it's been out of business or something. Look at all those spider webs!"

Tony pulled a face. "I hate spider webs! They make everything seem creepy, but it ain't out of business. How would Clayson have gotten in, Probalicious?"

"I agree," Ziva said, pushing open the door. "Shops only unlock their doors if they're businessing."

"Umm, Ziva, the term is 'in business'," McGee corrected absentmindedly, stepping into the store.

"Either way, I take it back. This place is definitely crappy," she ran her fingers along the dusty counters.

"And creepy. Your ninja-senses tingling Ziva? Oooh, there's ghosts hiding behind the clothes!" Tony teased, pointing at the racks of shirts hung on the conveyor belt.

"If she was a good agent, it would be," Gibbs said, glaring around the room, obviously uncomfortable. He seemed to have a good reason to be. The door clicked, then sprang shut.

"Whoa… yea, that's kind of scary!" Tony joked, but nobody seemed to have heard. Ziva already had her gun drawn out, when the clothing belt whirred to life, sending the clothes into motion.

"BAM! BAM!" she shot two neat little holes into the first shirts she noticed move. The constant motion seemed to throw her off though, and she didn't notice the flicker of shadows in the corner until BAM! there was a neat little hole in McGee's side.

* * *


	8. Brain Games part 1

**I'm realllyyy sorry I couldn't finish the update, but its not really my fault, you see. It's Maplestory's fault, cuz it's just too addicting! What's that you say? It IS my fault? Ummmm...  
SOLVE THIS RIDDLE THING AND FORGET ABOUT MY IMCOMPETENCE!  
EM EYE SEA KAY EE WHY  
EM OH YOU ESS EE  
Read it out loud a couple of times. **

Instinctively, Tony, Ziva, and Gibbs formed a triangle around McGee in the center of the dry-cleaners, protecting him and each other's backs as best as they could. Bullets would occasionally zing past somebody's ear and they would all shoot blindly toward where the shot came from, but they never seemed to hit anything but clothes. A bright Hawaiian shirt always caught Tony's eye, and now had at least five holes in it, and Tony was nearing hysteria. For once, though, he was completely serious and didn't risk fracturing anybody's concentration just to crack a joke. In times of battle, there were certain rules that you just couldn't break.

* * *

McGee lay, gasping quietly on the floor. A pool of blood was seeping out of his side, and he marveled at how he could still be conscious even with the pain. He imagined himself, deflated and bloodless, like a balloon out of air, and nearly giggled, but stopped himself before he distracted anybody. After the battle was finished, they would tend to him and laugh with him, but he couldn't risk causing the death of somebody else. Like a good little agent, he would be quiet and bear the pain.

* * *

Shadows seemed to flicker all around her, and Ziva wanted to scream in frustration. At first, she'd shot at anything that moved, but it made her dizzy, tense, and distracted, causing her to miss, more than once, something moving against the spinning of the clothes. She kept her gun up and stayed as alert as she could though, even as she felt her mind fraying. Mossad hadn't trained their agents to be selectively reactive, unfortunately, and she was suffering. Out of the corner of her eye, though, she saw Gibbs carefully tracking every movement in the room. He rarely ever seemed to shoot, but when he did, there was always a muffled reaction. A groan, a yelp, all violently stopped.

* * *

"Who's Saphira?" Abby asked, even though Eragon thought he was running too fast for her to open her mouth without it flapping in the wind. "You said you were a Dragon-Rider, so is Saphira your dragon? I bet she is! And she's blue, isn't she, just like a sapphire. I didn't know dragons really existed. Wait! You said I could fly on her if we were in your time. What does that mean? I thought only old people said that about the 'good ol' days'" she continued on, elaborating on stories various people had told her throughout her life, but Eragon had stopped listening. It wasn't that what Abby said wasn't interesting, but Gibbs had suddenly gone from relaxed and alert to careful and alert. Something wasn't right.

"Barzul!" he cursed. "We're too late!" This stopped Abby right in the middle of a sentence.

"Too late for what? Oh no! Oh-no-oh-no-oh-no-oh-no-oh-no! They're under attack, aren't they? And it's all my fault," she frowned sadly, then whacked Eragon several times on his butt. "Giddy-up!"

* * *

Suddenly and without warning, a face stuck out of the folds of the suits. Tony and Ziva both immediately tried shooting at him, but they only heard dull clicks when they pulled the trigger. Whoever was shooting at them had been counting their bullets. Damn. And yet, Gibbs still managed to stay one step ahead, placing a bullet right through the teasing face. As if he'd said a magic word, another bullet, shiny and gold, came towards him with unerring accuracy and pierced him in the shoulder. It was clear that whoever shot it had done it on purpose, simply to take Gibbs out of the sick game they were playing.

* * *

"Wait a second!" Abby squealed. "How'd you know what was happening to Gibbs? I bet you have telepathy powers, don't you? Just like Edward! Well, kind of. Hopefully your not a crazy stalker like he is. Can you teach me? I've been trying to send my thought waves to Gibbs, for, like, ever, but he never gets them." Abby's ability to guess and assume things extremely accurately _almost_ frightened Eragon, but her request gave him definite qualms. If she really wanted to learn though, now was as good a time as any, he thought as he leaped from car top to car top.

Abby remained extremely persistent about "ESP", as she called it, and even stopped blabbering. Eragon assumed that she was glaring at him.

_Hey_, Eragon thought, waiting for her to notice the intrusion. _Abby, you wanted to learn, right?_

"WHOA, what the?!" Abby screamed into his ear. Flinching, Eragon nearly slid off a slick car top and had to scramble onto the next one, the driver absolutely clueless to what was happening right above his head.

_Abby, relax._

_This is so cool! So, can I go into other people's heads too? _Surprisingly, Abby was very sufficient in her mind. What she wanted was all clearly set out without all the detours her mouth took.

_Yea, try me. _Eragon withdrew his mind from hers. After a moments hesitation, something that resembled a train barged into his thoughts.

_YAY! I did it! _Cheering, she squeezed him so tight he almost couldn't breath. _Can I do that with anyone? Like Gibbs? _She flung her thoughts out, blanketing the world in Abby-ness. _Hey, how do I find him? _Thinking, Eragon hesitated to answer, and he felt her glaring at the back of his head, waiting for a reply. Instead of telling her what to do, Eragon simply showed her. Without a moments hesitation, Abby began seeking out Gibbs.

_If you can do this, then most other people probably can too. That means you should learn to block others out. _Looking back, he realized that exposing Abby to these mind tactics probably hadn't been a good idea, but the fact the she was an incredibly fast learner lessened his guilt. _Focus on something as hard as you can, and I'll see if I can break in. _He retreated and gave Abby a moment to focus. Forming a hard point, Eragon was about to stab at Abby when his foot slipped. He found himself in Abby's mind. _That was WAY too easy,_ he teased.

_Hey, no fair! I was worrying about my life!_

_Fine. You get another chance. _Once again, he retreated. Cautiously, he felt the boundaries of her conciousness. It was smooth and tawny, made up of millions of little strands, like... his hair... Laughing, he pushed at her strange shield and tried to force his way inside, but the hair just flexed along with his pressure. Changing tactics, Eragon combed her mind, moving aside the strands, but for each hair he moved away, twenty more were revealed. He made himself sharp and tried hacking at her, and at first it seemed that his efforts were futile, but then he felt the hair melt away, and he was in her thoughts.

_Ha!_ Gloating, Eragon let his pride and triumph seep across their link. Abby ignored his childishness and thrust something at him. It was Gibbs, and he was in trouble.

* * *

He hated being a liability, not being able to do anything but sit quietly as lives were on the line, so Gibbs tried to remain standing, painstakingly keeping his arm up. Taking aim was nearly impossible as his hand kept shaking, but he still managed to at least _graze_ somebody. The fact that he'd been shot made Tony and Ziva seem to think everything was hopeless. They were like sitting ducks. _Blind_ sitting ducks, but he refused to give up. Somewhere, Bill Clayson and his little girl needed their help, and he would do his best, even if it meant dying. Carefully examining the racks, Gibbs noted that if he could break the rubber track thing laid on the inside of the metal, it would stop moving. Unfortunatley, with a gun, he'd have to shoot the same place billions of times before it would break. It was better than nothing, though.

* * *

With a grand leap, Eragon hit the sidewalk with a thwack, then sprinted from store to store. In a matter of seconds, he was in front of a desolate area of town, in front of a dingy store, labelled "Dry-Cleaners".

"Oh my God!" Abby gasped as she climbed off his back and peered in through the window. "McGee and Gibbs are hurt! For once, I wish I wasn't here," she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut.

Eragon too, closed his eyes and began searching the room with his mind. The shooters were clever, hiding among the shadows. Their aim was perfect, yet they didn't try to kill Ziva or Tony. It seemed that they were waiting for someone. Placing a hand on the handle of the door, Eragon was about the enter when he realized that it'd be much safer to stay outside. Inside, he'd just be another trapped person.

**I know it's not really a proper ending, but...**

* * *


	9. Brain Games part 2

**Yes, I have failed once again to update on time, yes this chapter is STILL incomplete, yes it is ridiculously short, and yes I have excuses. 1. On Friday, I simply forgot and on Saturday I was out feeding hobos (yes, really...) so I couldn't update. 2. This was surprisingly hard to organize into words. 3. I AM TIRED! (and behind on homework, but who cares about that?) and 4. I had a cup of coffee, and it hasn't worn off yet (after... four?... days...) 5. THERE'S SO MANY NEW BOOKS OUT! Peter and the Starcatchers has a new one, the Magyc series has a new one, the Mysterious Benedict Society has a new one... IT'S A NERD DREAM COME TRUE!! Please don't get mad at me. I'm hoping there's enough in here to think about to keep you happy for a while... :P**

In his many years in Ellesmera, Eragon had mastered the ability to control magic without the use of gramyr. Quiet candidly, the elves had told him that he didn't stand a chance against Galbatorix if he depended on the Ancient Language, so he spent the most of three years practicing, well developing was more like it, the art of focus. He'd spent more of his life staring at plants and literally watching them grow than he would've thought possible, but the result was being able to enter something and become so attuned to it that he could almost _become _it and manipulate it that way, and some pretty darn big ferns.

Even though he'd known that someday that skill would be useful, Eragon hadn't really expected to need to use it so soon. Smiling dryly to himself, he searched the room for any consciousnesses, other than the team. There were seven people. Five spread across the room, two bunched in the corner. Now, all he had to do was eliminate them. Waiting patiently, Eragon reached into the barrel of Gibbs' gun while still keeping tabs on the seven people. Well, mostly just the five who were moving. He was going to assume, for now, that the other two were hostages. The bullet, simple, sleek, and lethal, rested innocently. Even with his injured arm, Gibbs was the least easily flustered and the best shot. Eragon waited, expecting some sort of warning before being shot out of the gun, but Gibbs seemed to have another plan in mind and sent Eragon off, away from any bright speck of light he could sense. It seemed that he would have to do just a bit more steering than expected…

Slicing through the air, Eragon headed towards one of the shooters, who nimbly jumped out of the way. Eragon wheeled around and embedded himself in his hard, muscle-packed abs. Surprised, the shooter gaped down at his bloody stomach, but didn't appear to be hurt in the least. Eragon pressed on his metal enclosure, against the warm, squishy flesh, forcing himself out, out, OUT…until the bullet exploded, sending bits and pieces of blood soaked muscle flying across the room. One down, four to go…

* * *

Blinking hard, Gibbs tried to clear his head. He thought he'd seen the his bullet spin around, like a boomerang… Of course, that couldn't have happened, and yet the remains of the man splattered on the clothes offered proof… Tony inhaled sharply, not quite gasping, but clearly surprised, and Gibbs turned to see if he needed any help. Through the glass window, he saw Abby. Abby and Eragon. Both with their eyes squeezed tightly shut.

* * *

Taking down the five people had been incredibly simple, as they had no way to run. Their collective gore covered almost the entire room, giving it an eerie dungeon-like effect. As Eragon, proudly, yet slightly repulsed, surveyed the room, he noticed for the first time that Ziva seemed to be at wit's end, Tony was shocked, McGee was passed out on the floor, and Gibbs was swaying slightly. As he walked in, he felt almost guilty that he hadn't let them know, somehow, of his plan, yet at the same time, he knew that he couldn't have. He knelt next to McGee, who lifted his head, surprising Eragon.

"Oh, look, there's a pretty birdie! FLY BIRDIE!! Fly before I EAT YOU!" McGee rasped, laughing hysterically before he finally slumped to the ground.

Abby had been jumping around, giving everyone giant bear hugs. "Will he be alright?" she asked Gibbs, giving him a squeeze. Gibbs winced.

"Of course he's alright. Any agent of mine would be," he growled, but he swayed and staggered ruining the tough image.

"Sorry Gibbs!" she said, turning immediately to Eragon. She didn't know _why_ she turned to him, it just seemed like he would know what to do, because… "Oh, yeah, Eragon taught me how to do the mind-wave thing that you guys were always teasing me about!" she turned to glare at Tony, failing to notice Eragon healing McGee.

"I never teased you!" Ziva said with a smile. Tony winked at her and she shot him a deadly glance.

Abby gasped sharply, and Ziva guiltily turned towards her. "Look, Abby, I didn't mean…" one look at Abby's face cut Ziva off. Staring at something above their heads, Abby's expression was a mix of revulsion, hatred and shock. Without thinking, Ziva's head snapped up. "Ari!" she moaned.

Simultaneously, Gibbs, Tony, Eragon, and even McGee, who Eragon had healed, looked to see what Ziva had been talking about. Already weak, Gibbs came dangerously close to fainting when he saw the all too familiar grinning face of Ari Haswari.


	10. Brain Games part 3

**Yes! Finally finished this chap, finally updated on time! Three cheers for me! Over break, I'm gonna try to write as many chaps as I can (about two :P) so that I won't update late ever again (read, for a week or two.)**

"Ari! I'm so sorry. It was… Papa, he… Oh, Ari!" Ziva choked out, her shoulders shaking. Gibbs, hatred in his eyes, instinctively tightened his finger around his gun, yet something about Ari…

"I am not ARI!" a woman's voice called out. "Why does everyone think I am Ari, huh? Do I look like that shaggy bastard to you? I am a woman, for goodness sakes!" she ranted, pacing on a rickety balcony above their heads.

"Whoa, Ari came back to life and had some pretty extreme plastic surgery!" Tony joked before he could stop himself.

"Just because Ari had the luck to be allowed to roam the Earth, he's a celebrity, isn't he? While I, poor Ira-" Abby let out a little giggle before she managed to choke it back. But seriously, Director David was bonkers. Ari and Ira… "-had to stay locked up and kept as a secret to be a family joke! See, even you laugh, you devil's child!" she said self-pityingly, pointing at Abby. "'Oh, you'll be a good secret weapon!' Papa said, 'Oh, you'll be even better than Ari like this', he said. And I believed him! But what do I find when I'm finally freed from my little hiding place? Nothing but Ari this, Ari that, oh look, I don't care if she's a woman, she slightly resembles him, so she must be Ari!"

By now, Ziva had gone from crying to laughing. So, Ari had a twin sister, another half-sister for Ziva, that lacked self-confidence… Wouldn't Ari be happy to see this? His twin throwing a fit like a little kindergartner who wasn't getting enough attention in class.

"What do you want, _Ira_?" Gibbs asked, strangely carefully. Ari had outsmarted him before. Who knew if this immaturity was an act on Ira's part?

"Thank you! Yes, finally! Someone who called me my real name! Papa told me to finish Ari's work, of course. It's all about Ari. He didn't tell me what to do though. I only know it has something to do with you and your team. Papa tells me nothing, but expects me to know everything" Ira smiled brightly at first, but gradually began to sulk again.

"So, did you just make yourself _look _like a woman, or did you get all your par-" Tony, who obviously had been distracted by Ira's rather good form, was cut off by a cuff to his head by both Abby and Gibbs. They were in a precarious position at the moment, as they didn't know where Ira stood. Ira had heard though, and at first her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits, making Gibbs' heart quicken with trepidation, but then they welled up with tears, causing his stomach to jolt. He hated emotional women. Especially when they had power over him.

* * *

Watching the scene, Eragon felt not only bewildered, but extremely out of place. In Gibbs' mind, there had been a dark corner full of hate. Eragon had tried to steer clear of it, but he'd gotten a brief image of a grinning, olive skinned man with the creepiest smile in the world. It seemed that this was the "Ari" they kept speaking of, as Ira looked just like him, and everyone, especially Abby, had looked like they wanted to strangle her. Of course, now they were just laughing, except for Gibbs, who seemed to be on a sensory overload, unsure of whether or not he should attack. The choice seemed pretty clear to Eragon.

* * *

She had always had bad control over herself. It seemed that every time she got mad, frustrated, or stressed, pitiful, embarrassing tears would spill onto her cheeks. It drove Papa mad, how almost every practice mission would end in her sobbing her heart out, and Ira hated it as much as he did. Honestly, though, she couldn't help it. Her entire existence was based on being kept hidden. A deadly killer as substantial as a shadow. This mean that she was trained by no one but Papa. Until she got too familiar with his M.O. Then he started using other agents. Ones that she would train with even as she knew that they would be killed by the end of the day. If not by her, then by Papa. Only the truly perfect agents survived their first day with her, only to be killed later. A day or two at most.

Of course, Ira didn't enjoy being the cause of the end of another human's life. Knowing that somebody would be killed just by knowing you takes a lot away from experiences. She even started to apologize to each person who laid eyes on her. Papa had slapped her. It filled her with helpless despair, especially when she met the ones that were kind, giving her soft, brave smiles as she tried to shoot bullets into their eyes.

* * *

Gesturing helplessly into the air, Ira, still crying, began to pace. "Why don't you GET it? I AM MY OWN PERSON! Forget Ari, please! Can't you just look at me and see me as I am? I-" she stopped speaking abruptly, and Gibbs thought that she had been overcome by her emotions at, but then, she seemed to struggle a bit, her feet appearing to have been frozen in place. The forward momentum of her pacing threw her upper body off balance. If her feet hadn't been stuck to the ground, also, she would've toppled.

Slowly, smoothly, she rose into the air, her eyes wide and panicked. "WHAT THE-" again, she was cut off. This time, she seemed to have been gagged by and invisible hand. Floating in front of the gaping team, she continued to thrash.

"So, what do I do with her?" Eragon asked. Immediately, all heads turned towards him.

"You're doing this? Pshea right!" Tony scoffed, but it seemed half-hearted. Gibbs gave Eragon a long, hard look.

"Let her talk," he finally said. The second the words left his mouth, Ira began screeching.

"You can't do this to me! I'm going to tell Papa, and he'll get angry with you!" she sputtered.

"What do you want?" Gibbs asked, giving her his famous "Gibbs glare".

"I don't know! I was hoping Papa would give me orders as I was getting here, which I why I ordered them-" she looked around for her men, but finally just gestured at some gore "-to not kill you. I guess he _wants_ me to kill you though. That's what I always do, but this is my first real mission," she stated. "Of course, I did have some safety measures, in case _you_ killed _me_." Gibbs' gaze hardened, but Eragon chuckled.

"You mean your hostages?" Eragon asked. Ira blinked at him.

"If you kill me, you won't be able to find them!" she said, an edge of doubt creeping into her voice.

"We won't kill you," Gibbs soothed in a not-very-soothing voice. Turning around, Eragon headed off into the clothes.

"Um…" Ziva said, thinking about calling him back, but she thought better of it.

* * *

For the umpteenth time that night, Eragon closed his eyes and let his mind cover the room. Two specks, apart from the others, guided him into a secluded bathroom in the back of the Laundromat. They were there. Somewhere. Somewhere… lower…. Eragon opened his eyes, looking for any kind of trapdoor, but there were none. They seemed to be below the white bowl. McGee had told him it was called the… the… toilet! Yes, that's it. With a giant heave that felt no harder than picking up a quill, Eragon picked the toilet up, revealing a small hole. It was clear that the hole led to some sort of chamber. Rasping breaths and a small whimpering, like that of an injured puppy, was emitted from the hole.

"Hang on, I'm coming!" Eragon yelled, making sure that he kept part of his mind focused on keeping Ira still. She didn't seem very stable.

Squeezing through the hole, legs first, Eragon arrived in a musty little room. Well, more of another hole that was slightly bigger. Huddled on the floor was a man, hugging a gorgeous little girl. Her eyes were closed, but she didn't seem to be sleeping. The man opened his eyes, warily looking at Eragon.

"Come on. We got to get her out of here!" Eragon said, pointing at the girl. The air was dank and he was already feeling lightheaded. A faint smile crept across the man's haggard face, cracking his lip as it stretched. Eragon too smiled, as he helped the two people out of the hole, the man refusing to let go of his daughter for a second.

* * *

**My first OC EVAH! Well, other than Bill Clayson, but who cares about him? I was going to have Eragon kill Ira at first, but I thought too much on her and gave her a past and now I've become rather fond of her. So. What do I do with her? Have Gibbs break her, keep her an antagonist (a rather bad one at that), kill her... Suggestions?**


	11. Revealing Chats

**I've been treating my author notes more as a diary than an actual author not, so I deleted this one. It was about my uncle's crazy goat, if you were wondering.

* * *

**Clayson and his daughter were being thoroughly examined by Ducky, Ira was in the interrogation room, still bound and gagged by Eragon's invisible ropes, waiting for Gibbs to take care of "official business" (namely coffee) and all the shooters had been identified. Ziva collapsed into her chair, McGee collapsed into his chair, and Abby, after depositing Eragon in Tony's chair, collapsed into Gibbs', all four thoroughly pooped from the excitement of the day.

* * *

"Hey!" Tony whined, glaring at Eragon, before catching Abby's eye. Hurriedly writing his report on the car had led him to being the last one in. "Uh, I mean, that was nice of you, giving my chair to the guest…" He winced at how lame it sounded before plopping himself down on the corner of Ziva's desk.

"So, what'd you think of Ira?" McGee asked, leaning back in his chair, his hands behind his head.

Laughing, Ziva answered, "She acts like a prop!"

"Yea, she's kind of like her pa's pawn," Tony said, scratching the stubble on his chin thoughtfully.

"No, I mean like a high school prop! Whiney and jealous."

"You went to high school? I didn't know that! I thought you went to ninja camp," said Abby, perplexed.

"Well, I have watched enough television to know what high school is like, but that is not the point!" Ziva said, exasperated.

"I think she means a-"

"Wait, what's a high school?" Eragon asked suddenly, cutting Tony off, a genuinely puzzled expression on his face.

"Dude, where were you when you were, erm…fourteen through eighteen? High school's like the best time of your life!" Tony said. "Well, for most of us," he amended after seeing McGee's wince.

"Well, when I was fourteen, I was on my Uncle Garrow's farm with Roran."

"Oh, tough. Did your parents send you to your corny farmer family to help with 'behavior issues'?"

"No, Garrow adopted me when my mom left me at their house when I was a baby," Eragon said, his voice strangely emotionless. This shut Tony up and an uncomfortable silence drifted over the team. Oblivious to them, Eragon continued with his narration.

"Fifteen, that was the year my life changed forever. That's when Saphira hatched for me."

It was Ziva's turn to interject. "How in the world can a 'saphira' hatch for you? Gems do not 'hatch for you' as you say. They are found!"

"Ziva, I think you mean a sapphire. Saphira's a name," McGee corrected, before turning back to Eragon, eager to hear the rest of his story.

* * *

Gibbs, a cup of hot, black coffee in his hand, strode over to the bullpen, prepared to tell the team to stop talking (which he knew they were always doing) and get to work. As their desks came into view, Ziva, the only person he could see from this angle, appeared completely focused towards Tony's desk. Someone was talking from that direction. Strange. Ziva never watched Tony with such intensity unless he wasn't looking her way. Instinct (and curiosity) took over and he crouched by the wall, trying to keep out of sight.

"Arya, the elf from the Varden, brought me to Ellesmera, where I received training from one of the Riders of old, Oromis, and his dragon, Glaedr," Gibbs heard Eragon say. Bedtime stories. Delightful. He could already feel the sickly sweet, happily ever after ending coming up. There was probably an evil king and beautiful maiden involved, too. And here he was, silly old Gibbs, thinking it was something _important_! Or maybe, even _interesting_!

Just as he was about to walk in and disrupt their fun, Gibbs heard McGee ask, "If he was a Rider of old, wouldn't he be more powerful than you? Why didn't _he_ try to kill Galabatorix?" in a perfectly serious tone. There was no snickering, teasing, or joking. Not even blabbering on Abby's part.

"He was crippled. Going into battle would allow him to be used against us, and then there would be no guidance for the next gener- erm, for me." Even though Eragon seemed to be unsure of what to say, or perhaps because of it, it seemed that he was telling a true story. Gibbs caught himself thinking this just in time, and brushed the thoughts away, but a slight nagging doubt still gnawed at his gut. Especially as he remembered Eragon's strange tricks with the gun and what he claimed to have done to Ira. Maybe another coffee would help…

* * *

"Oh, I see. So even though he was doing the wimpy thing, he was being less risky! Like when people are kidnapped and a ransom is requested, and instead of calling the police and getting the person killed, they just pay the money! Of course, usually just paying the money makes the kidnapper braver and you poorer and the person dies anyways-" Noticing the weird looks she was getting, Abby stopped. "Sorry, wrong thing to say…" She sat back down as quickly as she could, causing the chair to squeal.

"Well, the stakes are a lot higher here, Abby! If Oromis had died, then Eragon wouldn't have been able to train and then the Riders would've been doomed!" McGee said, his eyes bright. This was uncannily similar to a computer game he'd been playing. Unfortunately, he'd sent his "Rider of old", Grendel, out to battle, and now his Rider character was flailing with only the elf characters to help him, and they were tricky and confusing. Maybe if he started over and copied Eragon's story, it would work, but it'd taken him so long to get to Erisle, the "elf land". Of course, hacking was an option.

"Gibbs is about to inter-gate Ira!" Eragon squealed (it was an unmanly squeal) before jumping up and running to the elevator.

"Oh, not another word twister!" Tony groaned, before running after him.

* * *

"Why?" Gibbs asked, letting the word rest in the air. After four cups of coffee, he'd finally decided to interrogate Ira. Alone. He failed once with Ari, so it was more than likely to happen again with the twin, but even if it cost him his life, his team wasn't going to see the demeaning ordeal.

Surprisingly, astoundingly, unbelievably, Ira answered without any other promptings. "Papa told me to finish Ari's job, and the only data I was given was a picture of a woman, taped on his wall."

_Kate._

"I traced her back to you, but because I was not sure whether or not he wanted you dead, I tried to trap you. Obviously, it did not work. What weird technology did you have that allowed your bullets to spin around and explode? We never get the good stuff. Not until our butts get licked by other agencies," she said.

"You're lying," Gibbs stated simply, even though she seemed to be honest in every way. He didn't want her to think that she could trick him. "What do you want from us?" he asked, giving her his coldest, hardest stare.

"_I don't know!_" she yelled, jumping half up in her chair before the chains pulled her back down.

"Really? Your brother, Ari, was smooth, but he never tricked me. Neither will you."

"ARI?! I _told _you. I'm not like him. I couldn't succeed because of him, and now I can't even fail," she said, chuckling dryly.

Eragon had to admit, he felt sorry for her. He was weighed down by the expectations of the elves, the Varden, his friends, family… pretty much everyone, set by the Riders of old. She and him, they were one of a kind, but Eragon could help clear Gibbs' misconceptions of her.


	12. Ignorance

**I HAD A WRITER'S BLOCK! WAAAHHHH!!! They're so painful! (Some people call them distracted plot bunnies, but I personally think bunnies know more than they think. It's the brown eyes versus the red eyes, and they're all spying on us humans, trying to get the information to the bunny king first. O_o) I mostly only updated because... TODAY'S MY BIRTHDAY! :D Unfortunatley, it's not a good as I thought it'd be. One of my birthday gifts (one of two) was broken, my mom forgot my birthday, we had to learn the "Hoedown, throwdown" in P.E., Maplestory decided not to install a new patch today, but on Thursday, and NCIS is ANOTHER replay. Grrrr...**

* * *

He skimmed over the lush, clear field of her mind almost giddily, barely acknowledging the memories that presented themselves up to him in his eagerness to prove to Gibbs that Ira was trustworthy. It was like running through a meadow, everything illuminated in the bright sunlight with no secrets, no shame. Even her hates; for Ari, her life, what her existence caused, her imprisonment; even they were cast carelessly out in the large expanse of thoughts. So happy, so careless was he, that Eragon failed to notice a pebble, a hard, gray lump barely big enough to kick, hidden carefully under a tuft of grass. A pebble that usually filled Ira's mind.

* * *

Waiting not-so-patiently, Abby couldn't stop her fingers from twitching out the questions she wanted to ask the team. She believed Eragon's story and wanted to help the intriguing elves and the funny little dwarves, so she was hoping that Tony (and inevitably Ziva and McGee) would help her, but so far, she hadn't gotten a chance to speak with the them without Eragon yet. Ugh. Once again, she glanced over at Eragon's head, which had remained unmoving, his eyes completely focused, for the past fifteen minutes. If only there was some way to talk to them without being too obvious. Why she hadn't taught them sign language when she had the chance, she didn't know, but it might not have been of much use. Ziva was observing the interrogation while Tony and McGee kept pushing each other. None of them shot a single glance her way. Nearly stomping her foot in frustration, she resolved to staring at the back of Tony's head, thinking _Look at me, look at me, look at me_ over and over again. That's when it hit her. Not quite like a ton of bricks, or a wave of water, but still.

Reaching towards Tony eagerly, Abby was already imagining his surprise when she mind-spoke with him, but almost subconsciously, her mind split towards McGee, then Ziva. _Whoa, I didn't even know I could do that…_

_What?! _Tony jumped, his mouth popping open. Ziva flinched, her hand snapping up to her star of David, thoughts going so fast that it was just a blur of minute observations. McGee just gaped, but he caught on first.

_Hi, Abby…. This is really weird. Like, in a cool way._ He smiled at her, but it seemed a bit redundant, as his awe and happiness was clearly felt through their mental link, as was Abby's pride.

_I know, right? It's like we're superheroes! Like, like, well, I don't know any superheroes that can read minds, but _still_!_

Tony seemed to be in slight shock, but he finally managed a _Hi…_ before drifting back into his dazed faze.

_Can everyone hackle my mind?! _Nearly mind-yelling, Ziva seemed to be hysterical.

_Hack. _The correction was instinctual for McGee, who's embarrassment was immediately felt by all. Ziva didn't care, though. She didn't say (or think) a word, but waves of displeasure were soon felt.

_Whoa!! _Tony's surprise echoed in their minds for a moment.

_Have you finally figured out what's going on? _Abby teased.

_What's Eragon doing?? _Tony continued, daringly ignoring Abby. Their necks all snapped around to stare at Eragon guiltily, as he was the only one left out of their little conversation.

"How do I talk to Gibbs?" he asked, a broad, clueless grin pasted on his face.

"Why?" Abby asked, giving him a suspicious look.

"She's innocent!" he nearly crowed, before turning his pleading eyes onto Ziva. A single eyebrow twitched as she scrutinized him.

_I don't trust him…_ Nonetheless, Ziva strode over to the microphone and pressed the little black button. "Gibbs," she began, but Eragon hurled her aside and yelled into the mic.

"She's safe! I checked. You don't need to yell at her anymore!" Gibbs turned his glittering blue eyes to the mirror and glared icily towards them. Eragon flinched, before turning to look at the stunned group. "I said something wrong, didn't I?" he whispered guiltily. His question was answered by a stinging blow to the back of his head as Gibbs strode into the room. Even with his elf-strength, Eragon's head was ringing for about five minutes after that. Maybe it was because of this that he didn't see Ira's smug, self-satisfied smile.

* * *

**Review pleaaasseee? My birthday's been horrible so far... OOh, while I was doing my vocabulary homework, I learned that ira- is the latin root for anger. And Ijust flipped Ari around! **


	13. People Problems

**Mleah. I am sorry. My friend said that I'm going "trigger happy" with the story. She's right, but... well... I really didn't want to leave this stuffz out, and it WILL affect the plot (plot? what plot?) in some way later. I think. Next chap should be better, and no, Ira won't sit there forever.**

* * *

Eragon was miffed. (It was a new word he'd picked up from either the magic sound-box that played loud, intricate, throbbing, living music, or the magic image-box that showed people doing all sorts of crazy things. Sometimes it wasn't even people, but things that resembled… singing, dancing, talking cucumbers…) Either way, he wasn't happy. Even after clearing Ira's name, Gibbs had left her in the little cell thingy, then glared at him until his neck was prickly and burning. Then, they'd all filed awkwardly back into the bullpen and everyone but Eragon and Abby sat. She ran to the elevator with a small wave and grimace, but he was left standing quietly by himself, in the middle of all the staring eyes. For several tense moments, Gibbs silently regarded Eragon while Tony, McGee, and Ziva pretended to be busy. (Everyone knew, though, that they were waiting for Gibbs to bite Eragon's head off… or worse.) Eragon could feel his status decreasing and his shoulders slouching for every second Gibbs' penetrating eyes bore into him. Slowly melting, Eragon imagined himself turning into an embarrassed, red puddle on the floor with no pride, no dignity, and no balls. The seconds stretched unbearably longer, when suddenly, Gibbs' phone started loudly vibrating.

* * *

The buzzing couldn't have come at a worse time. Gibbs reluctantly switched his gaze to his cell phone and willed it to stop, but, of course, it didn't. He wouldn't admit it to anybody, but watching a full grown man squirm and knowing he was the cause for it always seemed funny. Obliviously skittering across his desk, the innocent device seemed to almost be deliberately ignoring his commands. Finally, with a sigh, Gibbs snatched the phone up and growled into it, not bothering with a greeting.

"Why, hello to you too, Jethro. Is something the matter?" Ducky's warm voice greeted him patiently.

"What's up, Duck?" Gibbs snapped, turning his back to the team. Eragon immediately (audibly) slumped with relief, and Gibbs couldn't help the quick smile that flashed across his face.

"Clayson and his daughter are fine. Ready to go home, in fact." Ducky chuckled. "Janie didn't get a scratch on her, the cute little soul. Just some mild dehydration and oxygen deprivation. I remember this one case quite similar to this one, where the victim wasn't so lucky. Yes. She was the most horrible shade of blue when we found her, and-"

With a loud click, Gibbs snapped the phone shut before turning back to the team. He knew Ducky well enough to know that he wouldn't be offended at all. In fact, he was probably still telling the story as if nothing had happened. Turning around, he briskly stated, "Clayson and his daughter are ready to go home."

"Oh, and he doesn't have custody, right? I'll call up his ex-wife. Thank goodness he only has one, eh boss? Not that I meant anything by that…" Tony said, before getting to work.

Ziva instinctively continued. "I will go… umm… heh…" Realizing that there was really nothing for her to do, Ziva just let the sentence hang in the air and hurried over to her computer, clacking and clicking wildly. McGee followed suit, unaware that Gibbs had the perfect view of his blank screen from where he was standing.

* * *

From above, Director Vance watched Gibbs' team fondly, gnawing on a little toothpick. Gibbs & Co., as he thought of them, caused him no end of annoyance and trouble, yet he always felt the familiar comforts of home while around them.

"Gibbs!" he called, forcing his toothpick to the side of his cheek. "Director David would like to speak to you." Immediately, Gibbs' eyes hardened and he bound up the stairs, three, sometimes even four, at a time.

"Good, 'cause I got to talk to him too," he muttered, striding into MTAC. Vance, seeing the expression on his face, decided to stay out of the way.

* * *

Trying hard to act nonchalant, Ziva leaned back into her chair and twitched an eyebrow.

"So, whose turn is it to buy lunch today?" she asked. Immediately, a guilty expression leapt onto McGee's face and he began fumbling through his backpack.

"Oh, sorry. I'll be right back," he said as soon as he found his wallet.

"Hey, slow down McGullible. She's playin' you." Already half-way to the elevator, McGee turned.

"What?!" he squealed, his voice going up a half octave.

"Tony!" she hissed, shooting him a glance before turning back to give McGee a sugary smile.

"Ziva, no lying, remember? It's not nice," Tony said, smiling wryly. Sticking her tongue out at him, Ziva swept up her belongings before marching to the elevator.

"Wait, you guys are going to make Ziva get the food all by herself?" Eragon usually had a bit of trouble with the plates of foods, especially the ones full of round fruits, when just feeding himself, yet Tony and McGee expected Ziva to bring back food for all of them without any help? It wasn't like she was an elf! Outraged, (and feeling quite proud of himself for it) Eragon raced towards the elevator, managing to slide in just before the doors slid closed.

"Trying to be a gentleman, Eragon?" Ziva asked without turning towards him. Putting it into such simple terms made Eragon's former pride melt away.

"No, I'm just curious!" he said hotly, realizing that it wasn't a complete lie. Winking at him, Ziva slipped out of the elevator even before Eragon had realized that the doors had slipped open.

* * *

"What the hell are you thinking?!" Vance heard Gibbs yell. Supposedly soundproof, the walls of MTAC hardly ever failed him. Unfortunately, even the newest technology couldn't stand against Gibbs' wrath.

"What do you mean?" Director David asked, only a decibel or two quieter than Gibbs.

"What do you mean, what do I mean? You know perfectly well what I mean," Gibbs said, completely serious. Creeping quietly in, Vance sat into one of the chairs, wishing he had some popcorn.

"Ah, Ira." There was a slight pause. "I believe that this is just a misunderstanding." Putting on a business-like, puppy dog face, Eli stared out from the screen beseechingly, while still managing to maintain some degree of dignity. Gibbs smirked.

"You come get you daughter, or I'll send her back to you. And she might not be in one piece," Gibbs said before signaling for the screen to be chopped away. For the rest of the day, though, Gibbs had a bad feeling in his gut.

* * *

"Are we going to the 'Drive-Thru?" Eragon asked as Ziva was parking, surprised by how clean and modern and… unique… the name of the restaurant was.

"To drive through the 'Drive-Thru', I would actually have to be driving something," Ziva responded, on the verge of smiling and rolling her eyes. "We will just walk into McDonald's."

Eragon gaped. "McDonald's? What kind of name is that? I mean-". Before Eragon could continue his rant, a wave of air hit his face. Moist, oily air with layers of smells woven together to form a huge, greasy mix. There were potatoes, but they were soaked through with oil, and bread, also fried, and… and… was that… meat? It hardly smelled like meat, being burned, but for the first time in almost ten years, Eragon felt his stomach yearn for flesh.

Seeing the awe on Eragon's face, Ziva nervously pushed him over to an empty table, afraid of the next stupid thing he would do. "Sit here," she commanded. Still dazed, Eragon immediately stood and headed, zombie-like, towards the food. Ziva sighed. She hated doing this, but she had no choice! Giving Eragon a wry ,teasing smile, Ziva pushed him down into the chair before gently tapping him on the nose.

"Stay here, Eragon," she murmured quietly before hurrying off into line, leaving Eragon sitting there, still dazed, but blushing.

* * *

Eragon could feel the tingly warmth seeping from that tiny point on his nose to the rest of his face. Creeping into his brain, it seemed to immobilize him. She'd told him to stay, so he would stay. He would stay even if the world burned down. The tingles were now running, not unpleasantly, up and down his spine. He shivered, before turning to look fondly at Ziva. She was talking to a red-faced youth, not yet a man, who had ears too big for his head and enough pimples for an elephant to get lost in. Laughing lightly, she leaned in and tapped him on the nose, sweeping up her food (which had arrived in record speed) and left, the boy still standing there, a goofy grin on his face. Half-way to the door, she turned, waved at Eragon, and continued. He scurried to catch up with her, even though he was infuriated.


	14. Realizations

**Remember how I said that the last chapter would affect the plot? I kind of lied. Huge change of plans, because what I'd been planning before was ridiculous. (It just took me a really long time to realize it.) But, I got things sorted out and now I have a new laptop (COOLIO!!) so, yeah... In case you were wondering, my old one got eaten by a huge virus called AntiVirus Live that I got from , so if you use that website, I suggest you stop. The virus is so horrible, my sis' boyfriend couldn't reformat it and ended up having to wipe it so clean that he has to download Windows onto it, or else its just a blank screen. Then, in the process, his computer got infected too... **

Ira sighed, quieting her mind and pushing all her worries to the side where they couldn't distract her. Her father had only briefly taught her how to do this once, when she'd been very young. Then, one of his many attractive female "advisors" came in, and he'd slipped away for yet another night. Still, she was from the David family, so remembering the spell wasn't a problem. Finding the magic was going to be a bit harder. Mossad agents weren't known for their open-mindedness.

* * *

Eragon glowered at Brisingr, examining its flawless blue metal, hoping that the silence was at least somewhat uncomfortable to Ziva. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to notice him in the least as she bopped to some angry person on the radio. On top of that, the smell of what she'd called hamburgers was making him drool. He'd already had to discreetly wipe several droplets of spittle off of Brisingr's shiny surface. How in the world could she have tricked him like that? Making him feel as if If Saphira was here, then he could vent his feelings to her and make fun of Ziva. It was quite satisfying talking about someone behind their back right under their nose. _If Saphira was here_- something inside of him twinged. The entire time he'd been in the future, he'd only thought of her a couple of times. And she was probably waiting eagerly for his report, staying by Nasuada's tent, afraid to go too far in case he happened to scry back. Guiltily, he resolved that once they got back to the NCIS building, he'd contact her. Maybe even use the giant mirror in the bathroom. Pleased with himself, he leaned back and sighed contentedly. Then, Ziva swerved, causing his sword to slip across his finger. Just like that, he was upset again.

* * *

The pool of saliva in her hand shimmered, solidifying for a second before darkening. Her heart quickened, but she still managed to remain focused on the blackening drop of water. She was so close! Just like the past ten times, but still! A faint image brushed across the surface of the water; just a brief flash of faint color, but it was enough. Papa was right. This Eragon had Brisingr, the legendary blue sword that was currently locked up in a vault within a vault within a vault within the heart of Mossad…

* * *

"Wow! I can't believe any guy would want to divorce you!" Tony said, grinning at the tall woman in front of him. She had long, tangled brown hair brushed carelessly over her shoulder, no makeup, and wore a baggy Cal sweat-shirt and jeans, but was undeniably attractive. Almost so average and plain, she was exotic.

"Can I please just see my daughter?" Anne asked.

"Right," Tony said. He nodded quickly at McGee, who promptly called Ducky. "They'll be right up."

"They?" For a moment she looked caught off guard, but it all cleared in a second. "Bill! Oh crap! Do I have to talk to him?" she asked nervously, bringing her hands subconsciously to her throat.

"Uh, not if you don't want to…"

"Good," she said, sinking onto the window sill in relief, only to pop back up a moment later when the elevator chimed.

"And there they are!" Tony announced as Janie skipped out of the elevator cheerfully in a new pale yellow dress. A few seconds later, Clayson followed, still wearing his rumpled gray t-shirt and slacks. Seeing his ex-wife, Anne, standing there, Bill immediately stopped and began awkwardly rubbing at the stubble on his face. She pointedly ignored him as she embraced her daughter.

"Janie! Are you okay? Did anyone hurt you? What happened?"

As she blathered on, prodding at her daughter, Tony approached Clayson. "They're cute, aren't they?" Bill said, a faint smile on his face.

"Adorable," Tony agreed.

"I never wanted to leave them, but…" Bill trailed off sadly.

"Eh, life happen," said Tony.

"Yea," he chuckled dryly. "Well, time to get back to it again," He turned back to the elevator dejectedly.

"Hey, buddy-" Tony said, clapping him on the arm. "-good luck." Bill nodded.

"Yea. Hey, can you tell that other guy I said thanks? You're lucky to have such a great team. Well, I guess _I'm _lucky…"

* * *

"Mommy! Can I say good-bye to Dad?" Janie asked. Anne frowned, but finally nodded. She watched as Janie ran into a huge hug with her dad, her eyes hollow with unrecognized emotion. Tony pretended not to notice and allowed them all to leave by themselves, but a few minutes later, he watched the three of them walking together towards their cars together through a window, like a pre-framed photograph. The miracles he witnessed in his line of work…

* * *

"Lunch is here!" Ziva announced, prancing into the bullpen. "No lettuce, no tomatoes, extra meat, extra cheese!" she yelled, chucking a nicely wrapped burger at Tony's head. "Double-double cheeseburger!" Another one went flying towards McGee. "Angus beef half-pounder…" she carelessly tossed it at Gibbs before digging out another. "Ah hah!" she exclaimed gleefully, unwrapping it. Her burger was clearly fatter than all the others and smelled strongly of over-greased bacon.

"What about mine?" Eragon asked. He picked up the dejected paper bag and peered inside hopefully, but only found a dismal, flimsy lump, labeled "Snack-wrap". When he tried to pull it out, Abby swooped in.

"Ooh, lunch! Thanks Eragon!" she said cheerfully. The corners of Ziva's mouth turned up as she watched Eragon's eyes follow the snack-wrap as Abby took it away. With a flick of her wrist, a burger appeared out of nowhere. Without saying a word, Eragon snatched it out of the air and unwrapped it. A delicate balance of smells filled his nose and he nearly fainted with pleasure. Just one bite and his world would be complete. With exaggerated slowness, he brought the burger to his lips. His teeth sank into the sweet sesame bun before crunching into the pickles. Sweet bitter juice flooded his mouth, immediately subdued with a flash of tomato, then rich, salty meat. The fact that he was eating an innocent little cow didn't seem as wrong as usual. In fact, humans were _meant_ to eat meat, so why not?

Before he'd even unwrapped his sandwich, McGee looked up to find Tony munching away, Gibbs taking his first bite, Ziva half done, and Eragon staring forlornly at an empty wrapper in his hand. Then, quick as a wink, Eragon stood and rushed to the bathroom. Concerned, McGee watched him leave, thinking about following, but he decided that it would be weird and probably embarrassing. McDonald's sometimes disagreed with him too. If Eragon wasn't out in twenty minutes, he would go in and make sure he was all right.

* * *

Eragon focused shamefacedly on the mirror, muttering the ancient words of power. How could he have let some food get between himself and Saphira? It was ridiculous! He wasn't as upset by his actual actions than the fact that he'd had no control whatsoever over his choice. _You have a weak mind! _he heard a mocking voice say inside his head. Luckily, the mirror shimmered and Nasuada appeared (at her proper age) in front of him. He wouldn't have to spend another moment alone with himself.

"Eragon!" she greeted cheerfully. "I remember you said you were well. Anything new?"

"No, It's all good," he said, before cringing and correcting himself. "I mean, it's absolutely fine, m'lady. May I speak with Saphira?"

"Oh, of course. I'll send for her immediately. She's been having plenty of fun with Solumbum, making the rounds. They get along so well, and it's much easier to make an image of you when he's there. And he's quite good at pretending to be friendly with the crowds. Even tossed out a few gold coins!" Nasuada smiled, making no move to stand up, but the guards behind her had already frantically begun passing the word around. Stiffly, Eragon smiled back. So much for "waiting nervously near Nasuada's tent".


	15. Independent Missions

**ARGH, this chap really nearly killed me. You see the really short conversation at the beginning between Eragon and Saphira? That took me a whole two or three months or something like that. The other stuff took me about a week. I guess I really don't understand the Rider/Dragon relationship well enough. Oh well... Hope it was at least somewhat worth the wait.

* * *

**

"I've missed you, little one," Nasuada said in a low, smooth tone, almost exactly like Saphira. She moved out of the way, allowing Saphira to occupy the whole mirror.

"Really? I heard you were out having fun with Solumbum!" Eragon said with mock hurt. Saphira just grinned.

"Yes, he's really quite interesting! Did you know that he and Angela once lived in a cave with a family of were-wolves? Apparently, they were in hiding and the werewolves owed Angela something, but Solumbum got too close to one of the younger females, so eventually they were kicked out," she said, blinking lazily.

"Oh, really?" Eragon said, trying hard to act like he was just being jokingly jealous.

Saphira chortled, apparently buying his bad acting. "What have you been up to?"

"Oh, not much. I ran into a group of really cool people. They call themselves NCIS, and they work for the King, I guess," Eragon eagerly said. "They help save the good guys and catch bad guys and lock them up!"

"Well, why don't they just kill them, or make them pay and get it over with?" Nasuada asked with her own voice, pushing her way back into view.

"Because…" Eragon fumbled for an answer. "I don't know," he finally admitted sheepishly. "Maybe they do. I've only been here for half a day."

"Only half a day? It's been almost a month here!" Nasuada said. Her brow creased worriedly.

"Don't worry. I can get back by last week," Eragon grinned and Nasuada's expression cleared.

"Right, the whole time thing," she snorted. Saphira huffed pointedly, shooting smoke into Nasuada's hair. "Oh, sorry," Nasuada muttered as she edged out of the way again and cleared her throat. When she spoke again, it was with her special "Saphira voice".

"Have you found anything useful?" she asked.

"Well, there _is_ this gun," Eragon said, "but, well, I guess it would be good for the soldiers to have them." He felt strangely protective of everything from the future and didn't want them to think as badly of the modern weapons as he did, but he still needed to be honest. "It won't really do very much to Galbatorix, though. I was able to block three shots easily, all at the same time."

"Well, what does it _do_, exactly?" It seemed as if both Nasuada and Saphira wanted to know at the same time, because Nasuada's voice kept changing, first becoming low and throaty, then her normal smooth tone, then back again.

"It makes a loud 'BANG' and then it shoots a little metal ball out really fast," Eragon said.

"Isn't that what you did to hunt?" Saphira asked. Eragon nodded glumly.

"So I guess I haven't really found anything useful after all." He sighed, then smiled reassuringly at them. "But they're bound to have something better, right?"

Saphira grinned back, then blinked. "Contact us when you find out more, alright?" It was clearly Nasuada speaking now, but Saphira snaked her long neck closer to the mirror. Eragon understood that she was saying good-bye and placed his palm against the cold surface of the mirror, patting her snout just like he usually did to when they parted ways. At first, it felt just as cold and smooth as could be expected from a mirror, but just as the image began to fade away, Eragon could've sworn that he felt Saphira's warm breath on his face, her rough, shell-like scales brushing the tips of his fingers. Before he could fully realize what had happened, the mirror returned to its usual, reflective surface.

* * *

Padding quietly out of Nasuada's tent, Saphira's heart felt heavy. She sorely wished she could've told Eragon her plans, but his hot head would be a hindrance. A sudden smile appeared on her face as she imagined Eragon, all too eager to abandon his own mission to join hers, despite all the magic, work, and time that went into it. No, it'd be better to tell him afterwards.

Solumbum was already waiting for her outside of Angela's tent. He'd gotten changed into Eragon so many times that he no longer needed the spell casters to alter his appearance for him. Apparently, were cats could choose how they wanted to look., but Solumbum saw Eragon in a different way than Saphira. His imitation of Eragon had a slightly clueless, but haughty expression on his face as well as large, brutish muscles that lacked the grace and delicate balance that Eragon usually possessed. However, it was a good enough imitation to fool anyone who didn't know Eragon very well.

_Ready to go? _Saphira asked.

_As I have been for the past hour. _He replied with a lazy blink that looked incredibly wrong on Eragon's face. Nodding, Saphira bent down and let Solumbum climb up her arm and into the saddle. Even though she trusted Solumbum, he seemed to find some things that were very important to be trivial matters, so she quickly went through a mental checklist. The clothes they needed was on Solumbum, the bag, also with him….and that was pretty much everything they needed.

_Oh, have you contacted Murtagh yet? _she asked, suddenly remembering. Solumbum purred quietly.

_That weak willed boy with the young dragon?_

_Yes! It's important to contact them, _Saphira said, slightly worried.

_Well then, why haven't you? _

She frowned. _I thought that was your job._

_Well, are they going to help us? _Solumbum asked while casually looking at his nails, which were shooting in and out of his fingers. Exasperated, Saphira ran to her and Eragon's tent, clawing through the piles of dirty clothes that had gathered there until she found the familiar blue pendant. Murtagh had enchanted it and sent it to them a while ago, after he'd finally managed to alter his personality enough to slip out of Galbatorix's grasp. However, to stay alive, he had to still pretend to be under Galbatorix's rule. Eragon had still been ecstatic though.

After several minutes of struggling to put the heavy gold chain around her neck with her hooked claws, Saphira gave up and simply dropped the pendant into her mouth. The second the jewel touched her tongue, she felt an overwhelming rush of emotions that weren't her own. However, she was already quite experienced with this sensation and automatically began analyzing the various emotions in the ten seconds of time that Murtagh had allowed. It was a special safety feature so that they would have a chance to back out of his mind quickly if they happened to stumble in on a moment when Galbatorix was interrogating him. Not even Murtagh would be aware of their intrusion until the ten seconds passed. Then they would be able to share a mental link similar to that between a Rider and its dragon.

_Murtagh, are you ready? _Saphira asked the moment the enchantments allowed her to.

_Oh, hello Saphira. Thorn and I have been waiting for this moment! _Murtagh greeted her much more cheerfully than his old self would've.

_Yeah! Do we get to escape now? _A high, slightly squeaky voice joined the conversation excitedly.

_Hello Thorn. Have you been good? _Saphira questioned patiently.

_Yes, can we go now? Do we get to be free? I can't wait, Saphy! Woopsies…_

Saphira chortled. _What did you knock over now?_

Instead of being answered by the cute, childish voice of Thorn, Murtagh interjected urgently. _It was just a pot, but some guards are coming up now to investigate. Old Galby accidentally caught me thinking about escaping, so he's tightened the watch. I swear, I woke up to find myself surrounded by guards once because I sneezed! You'd better hurry, alright? Keep the pendant nearby!_

Saphira sent him a feeling of agreement before adding, _The soonest I can get there is in about three days. Be careful! _Their connection broke and Saphira hurriedly spit out the pendant, which Solumbum scooped into his knapsack before returning to his position on her back.

_Well that was a very important conversation! Solumbum said sarcastically as Saphira took off. She ignored him as she began the slow journey to the heart of the empire.

* * *

_

**I promised myself I wouldn't do it, but my pride is worth considerably less than a review. Therefore, I WILL BEG! Please please please review! It can be a mean review or a nice review or a random review or a pointless review, or a ranting review. I don't mind, just show me that you care. :D**


	16. The Start of Something Huge?

**To those of you I promised an update, I'm really sorry. About not updating, breaking my word, and proving that I'm an untrustworthy person. To others, I'm just gonna pretend for now that I hadn't planned on updating allllll summer long. Yea... Anyhow, some action on the way, as you can hopefully see. It's gonna be intense, man! Oh, and please excuse any spelling/ grammar issues, since I really wanted to update on the first day of school. (Our school started today because of budget cuts.) But, if you know more than I do about military protocol and whatever, and you notice what I said about Ira is untrue, please DON'T excuse it and let me know ASAP. Oh, and on a sidenote, I'm against Eragon and Ziva. My friends and a couple of reviewers pointed out that it seemed to be heading that way, but I really want a different pairing to work out (bet you can figure it out by the end of this chap!) However, I'm not a good enough writer to convincingly manipulate my characters, so if it does end up being a Zivagon, know that it was against my will. Alright, carry on!**

* * *

Murtagh looked out the darkening window at the clear evening sky. The sunset was beautiful, but it could've been a windy, stormy night and still have been much better with a certain dragon flying in it_. Are you looking for Saphy? _Thorn asked.

_Yes. I know she won't get here for a couple of days. But _freedom_! Can you imagine?_

Thorn wagged his metal tail happily, and Murtagh winced as the only loose article left in their cell, a tin cup, was batted into the opposite wall. After Glaedr had bitten off most of Thorn's tail, Murtagh had rushed him back to the palace, where Galbatorix realized that he couldn't reattach the original flesh. However, he could create metal tail segment that was "alive", and it melded to Thorn's stub of a tail just as naturally as his old tail had. Of course, that hadn't satisfied the ol' King. He reinforced, sharpened, and added a concoction of spells to the metal, creating a lethal weapon that could, in essence, destroy anything Thorn willed it to. Thorn never used it, but it was still there.

The thundering footsteps of dozens of soldiers alerted Murtagh to the arrival of the guards. They mechanically marched in, split into groups, searched the room thoroughly, then left. Though they were all used to Thorn's antics, Galbatorix required them to investigate everything. Murtagh shook his head and sighed.

_Sorry, _Thorn thought miserably, looking at Murtagh for forgiveness. Murtagh couldn't help smiling as he stared into the round, red-brown eyes. Despite all the growth spells, training, and battles Galbatorix had forced upon him, Thorn's eyes had managed to remain… well, certainly not innocent or naïve, but at the very least, hopeful, bright, and sweet.

_It's all right, _he thought, even though his mind was spinning. If he could hardly cough without being investigated, how would they manage to escape? Saphira would give them charms that would completely sever their connection to Galbatorix, but would he even be able to make it to her? Galbatorix had always allowed him to go fight in times of battle without needing to seek permission, but things seemed to have changed recently.

A knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. "Dinner's here!" Ivan called. Murtagh grinned. Dinner was a bit of a joke on Galbatorix's part. The King always insisted that Murtagh was a guest and friend. One that was locked up, tortured, and forced to do his bidding, but a guest all the same. A five foot long food trolley that had mockingly white tableclothes, candles, and silver domed platters was wheeled in. Crystal goblets imbedded with rubies held century old wine, and a crisply dressed waiter, Ivan, was there to "serve" him. However, Murtagh had discovered that Ivan a trustworthy friend, as intent as Murtagh was on overthrowing Galbatorix. His visit with each dinner was the highlight of Murtagh's day. "So," Murtagh said through a mouthful of steak. "what's up with all the guards?"

Ivan smiled grimly. "The King's afraid you're going to use Thorn's clumsiness to mask an escape. And the tail doesn't help either."

"Ah, I guess it would have a been a good idea, except technically I'm not _able_ to escape." There was nothing but the sound of Thorn crunching his way through a cow as Murtagh sat thinking. "Does he suspect my change?"

"You know, Murtagh, The King and I aren't exactly best friends. I wouldn't know, but if I were you, I'd be extra careful at the next questioning."

"Oh, yeah… When is it anyways?"

"Probably some time next week."

"Hopefully I'll be gone by then," Murtagh said with a playful grin. However, Ivan looked shocked.

"Is Saphira on her way over right now?" When Murtagh nodded, he glared. "Security's at an all time high. Now is probably the worst time ever to start this fiasco! Things are relatively peaceful and Galbatorix has nothing to distract him from you. And he's been edgy recently. Who knows what crazy security spells he's added!"

_Well, is the egg still there? _Thorn asked.

As a kitchen helper, Ivan had access to the kitchen storeroom. Once, he'd noticed that there was a giant container of peanuts hidden in the corner, which was strange because Shruikan was fatally allergic, and though The King had used many spells to protect him, peanuts were still banned from the kitchen. Ivan had flipped open the lid, saw a faint glowing green, and dug through the stale, dusty peanuts. His discovery of the third and final dragon egg wasn't immediately shared with Murtagh. In fact, it had taken several years before they trusted each other enough to discuss their hatred of Galbatorix, and another length of time before they dared speak of escape. However, the Varden was the only safe place they could flee to, and so they had decided that stealing the egg for the Varden would be a sure way to earn their trust and safety. However, Eragon and Saphira were the only people who were willing to listen to their plan, much less act upon it, and later they managed to convince Nasuada as well… as long as they gave her the credit if they succeeded and took the blame if they failed. She needed to appear as a strong leader, and she couldn't afford a mistake this big.

"I haven't checked for a while," Ivan said icily. "Especially since I wasn't expecting 'The Plan' to happen so soon! I'll tell you tomorrow." And with that, he wheeled the feast away, all of Murtagh's still-untouched food with it.

"Hey!" Murtagh cried unhappily before slumping back on his bed.

* * *

"Hey!" McGee cried in pain. After a long, awkward period of time spent debating whether or not he should go check on Eragon, McGee had finally decided to be brave. However, bravery was, apparently, rewarded with pain.

"Oh! Sorry! I kept pulling and pulling on the door, but it wouldn't open, so I kicked it," Eragon exclaimed apologetically, still wincing from the loud THUNK that had resounded after the door whacked McGee.

"It's ok," McGee said with watering eyes and a new lump on his head.

"Oh, good. So, what are you guys going to do now?" Eragon asked.

"Well, there's not much else we _can_ do, Eragon. By declaring Ira innocent, you implied that she acted on Eli's orders with no motives of her own. You made this into a business between the Directors, then possibly the governments, and a war could even be started. Before, we could claim that she was dangerous, put her in jail for a couple of years, and then forget about it. But now…" McGee shook his aching head sadly.

"So… I did something much worse than interrupt Gibbs, didn't I?" Eragon asked as they entered the bullpen.

"Yep. You might have just started World War III," Tony joked in a serious tone, having eavesdropped on the rest of the conversation. After letting Eragon look properly ashamed for a minute, he added chirpily ",so now I'm going to go home, take a nice hot bath, and sleep." He put on his jacket, switched off his lamp, and left.

"What! You cannot be done with your report already! I mean, how did you explain Eragon, and magic, and mind-reading…" Ziva exclaimed indignantly.

McGee glanced at his watch and smiled. "Ziva, just be creative. I'm sure you'll be able to think up something," and he too left. "See you tomorrow!" he called on his way out.

"Looks like I will be yanking another all-nighter," Ziva sighed. She yawned widely, then looked curiously at Eragon. "So, where will you be staying tonight?" After seeing Eragon's blank expression, she smiled. "Well, I'm sure Abby will be happy to take you." He balked, but Ziva had already resumed her typing. Looked like he wouldn't have any choice…

* * *

**Right... about my wanted pairing... If I successfully bring them together, it will be without the use of any M rated material. This fic is to remain strictly PG. PG13 at most, just for violence. Oh, and I wanted to make this official. My goal is to have 75 chapters in this fic by the start of 9th grade. Considering the measly 15 chaps I managed _this_ year, it's going to be a challenge, but as long as I don't slack off like I always do...**


End file.
